Josie
by St. Lisica
Summary: First chapter of an OC origin story.


This is something I wrote very quickly while working on an unrelated _Heroes_ fic that is reaching _War and Peace_-like proportions. If I ever get it finished, I would like to continue on with this story. Any constructive criticism is warmly appreciated.

Josie loitered in a state of post-sleep, pre-wakefulness. It was a mental state she enjoyed, somewhat conscious of being unconscious, where bizarre ideas coalesced with the imposing mundane world. As lucidity began to take over, she grasped on to the retreating haze of nebulous thought, trying to trick herself back into dreaming. Unfortunately, her banal brain had some routine questions.

_What day is it today?_

_Not sure. It's not the weekend. I think it's the middle of the week. Yes, yes, it's Thursday because yesterday I had to stay at school until five because of the basketball game._

_What are you supposed to remember about today?_

_No games after school. I've got two spare blocks today so I can mark those tests I was supposed to mark last week. Mark's found someone else to carpool with so I don't have to pick him up . . . and, right, I have to pick up some eggs and milk on the way back home today._

Pleased she had satisfied her working thoughts without too much effort, Josie waited for sleep to overtake her, but it was delayed by a returning thought.

_The game was two nights ago._

Josie didn't want to pursue this thought. At the back of her mind, she acknowledged there was a gap, but something was telling her not to fill it in. She tried to sink back into her subconscious, but instead wondered how much time she had before her alarm clock went off.

A distant pinch of anxiety triggered a rush of images that rolled through her mind like a fast forwarding tape. Alarm clock: seven o'clock, breakfast: toast and tea, clothes: sweater and slacks, weather: unseasonably warm, the roads had been slushy. School: joking with Mark in the staff room, two blocks of English 7, one block of Advanced English 9, lunch. Breaking up a fight in the cafeteria. Two blocks of English 8. Driving home exhausted. Collapsing on the couch, turning on the TV and falling asleep.

Here the tape suddenly stopped. The remote anxiety began to slowly roll towards her. The alarm clock hadn't gone off yet, and Josie was beginning to suspect she wasn't in her bed.

_I went somewhere_. _Where? Maybe it's summertime and I'm visiting Anna and I'm sleeping on her couch. Or I'm in my old room at Dad's._

Josie heard a phone ringing. It was on the tape. Her Dad was calling her, but he never called on a weeknight. His voice was very thin. The man who never displayed emotion was overwhelmed with it.

_What's wrong, Dad?_

_Nothing's wrong._

_Something is wrong. What is it?_

_I'm fine. I just need you to come here right away._

_What is it?_

_I'll tell you when you get here._

The anxiety was closing in. She wasn't in bed, she was sitting up. The left side of her body was sore and there was something in her ears. Breathing was difficult; the air was cool and thick.

The tape of memory collided with panic, punching images through her subconscious until it shattered: cold night, driving out of the city and down the winding road around Ronayne Lake. Light around the bend, road shimmering, revealing ice. Oncoming car. Blinded by headlights. Cranking the car to the right. Impact. Spinning. A lilting, silent pause as the car went airborne. Somersaulting down the bank, the door collapsing into her arm and leg, her head cracking against the window. The interrupted scream as the car shattered the ice and dove into the lake.

Josie's breathing became heavier as she raised her hand to her aching head. It lifted effortlessly.

She was underwater.

She instinctively drew a deep breath and tried to hold it, but she felt water enter her mouth and fall into her lungs. Her eyes burst open as she coughed and choked, flailing her arms and trying to swim, but something was restraining her.

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die._

She was beginning to make out shapes on the dashboard as her mind pulled into a final focus. She fumbled for the seatbelt release and freed herself. As she pulled at her door handle, her arm howled in pain. She winced and sucked in her breath, panicking as she felt more water enter her body.

_I'm drowning. I'm dying._

She pushed and punched at the dented door with her one good arm, but it refused to give. She snapped her head around, surveying the car for an escape route. She could see that the glass in the passenger side window had been cracked and as she instinctively moved towards it, her mind intervened with an unexpected proposal: it told her to relax. It reasoned that Ronayne Lake was deep, her lungs were filling with water, her arm and leg were injured, and she was wearing several layers of heavy clothing. The odds of making it to the surface were non-existent. Josie decided she didn't want her last moments to be filled with blind panic, so she settled back in her seat and waited for the quiet slide into darkness.

She stared out of the window, feeling like a plastic figurine at the bottom of an aquarium. She caught a small shimmer of silver moving among some distant weeds. As she tried to recall what kinds of fish inhabited the lake, she became sidetracked by the curiosity of death.

_I can see so clearly._

Josie turned her head upwards to try and discern a tangible source of light. Everything was a uniform shade of black, and yet she could make out the even the smallest details on her dashboard. She looked down at her hands and wiggled her fingers. She thought about her fingers for awhile.

_I should be cold. My skin should be some other colour than it is. Pink or purple or blue . . ._

_You're just numb._

_I'm not numb. I feel . . . normal._

All of Josie's anxiety and adrenaline gave one final surge, and then retreated.

_I'm already dead._

She sank into her seat, unsure of what to do or how to feel, so she continued to think aimlessly.

_The house is clean. That's a relief. When Dad and Michael go through my things, they won't think I was an utter slob. I guess no one will show up for class tomorrow. That will probably cause some confusion until they find me. Will they give the kids the day off once the news gets out? Will they be sad? And Dad . . . I hope he's alright. He said he was alright . . ._

Josie sat still, assuming an angel, demon or some non-denominational guide would appear to whisk her away somewhere, but her body's complaints began to overtake her thoughts. Her left arm stung sharply every time she moved it and her left leg throbbed with pain. Her headache was increasing, and when she tried to assuage it by massaging her temples, she was surprised to see blood on her hand.

_If I'm dead, should I still be bleeding? _

_I have no idea. I don't pretend to know how the afterlife works_.

Josie concentrated on her body. Her heart and lungs had relaxed since her panic, but she could still feel them working. She checked her neck for a pulse and found one. She watched her shoulders and chest lift with each breath. Wondering why her mouth wasn't emitting air bubbles, she placed her hand in front of her face and exhaled deeply. She felt a rush of warm water push against her fingers.

_Maybe you're not dead._

_If I'm alive, then something is very, very, very wrong._

Josie felt acutely uncomfortable. Feeling the urge to preoccupy herself with a task, she decided to extricate herself from the lake and see what awaited her on the surface. Reaching behind the seat, she grabbed her snow brush and hammered against the passenger side window until the cracked glass collapsed and floated away. Gingerly, she stuck her head out the window, monitoring her body for any changes. Her pulse and breath remained regular and the lake didn't feel any colder outside the car. Feeling much too heavy to swim, she decided that walking along the bottom of the lake to the shore was the most logical option. After carefully pulling herself out of the car, she limped across the rocky gravel and through thick patches of milfoil until she could see a car-sized hole seven feet above her. It was too far to try and swim to, so she continued to walk a little further until the lake surface was inches away from her head. Picking up a rock, she started chipping away at the icy ceiling.

The ice wasn't as thick as she thought it would be. The mild weather had already cracked it, and it wasn't long before Josie created a patch of floating ice she could pull through. Without thinking, she leapt up through the hole and hoisted herself on to the snowy bank.

It wasn't like her to plunge into a situation without thinking it through, but things were so decidedly unnormal, her cautionary instincts didn't apply. She immediately regretted her actions when she quickly realized she couldn't breathe.

Feeling herself dying all over again, Josie tried to roll back into the water, but her body was too wracked with gasps and coughs to move. On her stomach, she thrashed her legs with each choke, pushing her body up when she began to heave involuntarily. Torrents of water evacuated her body as she tried to distract herself from the unpleasant retching by watching the expelled liquid trickle away from her and melt into the snow.

After the last ounce of water had been pushed out, Josie collapsed on her back and took several sharp pulls of air. They moved into her body uneasily; she choked until she felt light-headed, but her body began to regulate and soon she felt the familiar sensation of oxygen flowing in and out of her lungs.

A frigid wind brushed against her body and she began to shiver for a few seconds until she realized she wasn't actually cold. She pushed back her wet coat sleeve and looked at her arms. They were completely dry. She ran her hand across her skin, checking for goosebumps. There were none, and both her fingers and her arm were warm to the touch. She pushed her fingers through her hair, expecting to find strands of icicles, but it too had dried.

In the struggle to breathe air again, Josie had felt a very tangible struggle for life, and yet lying warm and dry in the snow made her feel immune from the very life she had fought for. She sat up and stared at a grove of conifers swaying down shore. Surprised she could see them, she looked around, expecting a bright full moon or a streetlight. Instead she saw several layers of thick, low lying cloud, and a rural road snaking into the featureless night.

_Very, very, very wrong._

Josie pushed her head into the ice-encrusted bank, aggravating her head wound. She felt warm blood trickle down the side of her face. Deciding to go with real world logic, she hauled her battered body up to the road. She paused for a moment to search for the other car. Looking down, she could see fine bits of plastic and paint chips on the asphalt, but there were no other signs of a second vehicle. Holding her hand against her head, she began limping towards town.

Ten minutes later, a pair of headlights appeared. Josie waved her arm, the effort making her spin and fall to the ground. She heard a vehicle brake, an engine idle, and the sound of approaching footsteps before she submitted to the ease of unconsciousness.


End file.
